


trying to find the in-between

by machiavellist



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, highschool!jamie, romanticallyconstipated!jack, sassy!sandy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:38:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machiavellist/pseuds/machiavellist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I think snowball fights existed even before you were human, Jack.”</p><p>“Ha, but I made them <em>mainstream</em>.”</p><p>(Or, the one where Jack falls in love with Jamie over spoonfuls of mint chip ice cream and is a jealous and ignorant prat without a clue.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	trying to find the in-between

**i.**

He tells him over ice cream.

"Jack," Jamie deadpans, as he kicks his feet up onto the coffee table nervously and pretends to watch the latest episode of Glee, "I'm gay."

The winter spirit raises an eyebrow at him as he scoops a large spoonful of Dreyer's mint chocolate chip from the container and replies, "I know."

"You- you _what?_ " Jamie splutters, cheeks an embarrassing shade of violet as he flails around awkwardly, trying to regain control of the situation, which, decidedly, was not going well.

Jack chuckles and rolls his eyes. "I've known you were gay ever since you were ten. I'm friends with the Valentine's day spirit."

"Valentine's Day - hold up, you're friends with Cupid? What, are _you_ gay too?"

Jack conjures an ice cream snowball and throws it at Jamie's face in record-breaking time.

**ii.**

"Why do you stay here? Even when it's summer, you still stay here. Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Isn't it winter in another part of the world too?"

"Well, yes, but I can make it snow in Europe even when I'm here. I can honestly spend my time wherever and however I want."

"So you come here?"

Jack blinks. "Yeah, of course. What else?" He asks, as if it was the _most obvious thing in the world._

Jamie doesn't know how to respond to that.

**iii.**

"So, Jamie," Jack chimes as he lies on Jamie's bed reading _The_ _Elves_ _and_ _the_ _Shoemaker_ , "you never did tell me who was the boy that captured your heart."

Jamie, who was attempting to finish his Algebra II homework, promptly dropped his pencil and twitched in utter horror. "What makes you think that there is one?"

Jack huffs indignantly. "How else would you have known that you're gay? I'm mischievous and fun-loving, not stupid. Come on, spill."

"...aren't you friends with Cupid?" Jamie muttered, trying to stray far, far away from the topic. "Couldn't you ask him?"

Jack makes a face. "But that wouldn't be any fun, now would it?" he chirps as he slams the book shut and tosses it across the room. "Ugh, that book is terrible and so inaccurate. The Yetis would get pissed if they knew that they were depicted as elves in human stories."

"People have different concepts of Christmas. Did you also know that in a movie, you're depicted as an evil old man?"

"...oh, disgusting," Jack grumbles, irritated. "I'm forever in my prime, thank you very much. I will always be this attractive." He tosses his hair in a manner that is terrifyingly similar to Justin Bieber's signature hair flip. "Don't you think I'm attractive, Jamie?"

Jamie chokes. He does not like the way this conversation was going. "Shut up, I have to figure out this algorithm crap."

Jack smirks. The hasty change in conversation topics did not get lost on him.

**iv.**

“Do you ever get hot?” Jamie inquires out of pure curiosity one day. “I mean, I know it’s a stupid question, you being the winter spirit and all, but like, fireplaces? Do the heatwaves just...rebound off of you, or something like that?”

“Where did that come from?” Jack answers back (with another question - Jamie hates it when he does that) “And no, I don’t get hot. I already am.”

Jamie gives him an unimpressed look with a raised eyebrow.

“Come on, Jamie! No one can resist my sheer charm and masculine, handsome elegance. My hair! It is an exquisite silver that shimmers in the moonlight! My eyes! They glint with an icy, crisp blue whose shade rivals that of an aquamarine's! My body! It is irresistibly fit from -”

“Okay, okay, Narcissus, I get the point,” Jamie cuts him off, but his face was tinted cotton candy pink, probably from thinking (or dreaming, or better yet, _fantasizing_ , in which Jack cackles maliciously) about his _irresistibly fit body._

The spirit laughs.

**v.**

"Hey, Sandy," Jack asks his fellow guardian one day, "do you think Jamie has a crush on me?"

The little man made of sand gives him a questioning look that can be interpreted in two ways - either 'oh my God, who are you kidding?' or 'what did you put in your drink this morning?' as an image of an ellipsis forms over his head.

“What the heck was that supposed to mean?” Jack protests, watching the dwarf-like spirit float away, after he purses his lips and tilts his head in an impassive way that screams, “You’re an idiot.”

...Jack still doesn't know what his answer is.

**vi.**

Jamie crashes in through his own bedroom door.

“Jack,” he blusters joyfully, red staining his cheeks, “a guy asked me out!”

Jack, who has been spending his free time playing Portal 2 on Jamie’s computer, swivels around in Jamie’s black office chair and stares at him like a gaping goldfish. “What.”

Jamie punches him (not-so) lightly in the shoulders. “Don’t look so surprised,” Jamie remarks sarcastically, mockingly (or maybe not mockingly? Jack doesn’t know how to read him these days) insulted. “I am not that ugly, you know. I am a cute gay boy.”

“You, uh...congratulations? Wait, did you just call yourself _a cute gay boy?_ ”

Jamie throws himself onto his bed, squished a pillow to his chest, rolled around in giddiness, and grinned stupidly.

Jack’s salt-and-pepper eyebrows disappeared under his silver bangs. “Calm down, hyper. What’s his name?”

"Christian," he coos, lovesickness dancing across his face like leaping ballerinas, "But he goes by Chris. Isn't that such a suave name? Chris. Chris. _Chris_."

“It’s obviously not nearly as suave as the name Jack,” he blurts, in attempt to stop Jamie from drooling over his new boyfriend. “Jack,” he says throatily, and then, with a desperately ridiculous French accent, he proclaims again, “ _Jah-que._ ”

No avail. “But... _Chris_ ,” he blinks innocently.

Jack groans and gives up.

**vii.**

“Why don’t you ever talk about Jamie anymore?” Tooth inquires, concern evident in her periwinkle eyes. “Did something happen? Did you guys get into an argument?”

Jack slumps down on North’s couch as he stares at the hearth. “He’s growing up,” he murmurs, and then even quietly, “He’s even got a boyfriend now.”

“Are you more upset that he’s growing up or that he’s got a boyfriend?”

“I...don’t know? Maybe both?” Jack straightens up on the sofa. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing,” Tooth dismisses, but a faint smile graces over her lips.

**viii.**

“I went on a date with Chris today,” Jamie gushes.

Jack purses his lips and doesn’t look up from his doodling. “Did you, now,” he grumbles, unimpressed, with his back facing Jamie as he presses his finger to the frosted window.

“Yeah,” the human exhales dreamily. “He took me to the movies.”

“How boring. Why the movies? Why not a snowball fight? Why is it _always_ the damn cinema?” he mutters, tapping the window with his wooden staff, bringing the drawing to life. A hummingbird sculpted from ice flits around nervously above Jack's head.

“He’s too good,” Jamie laughs. “He’d beat me anyday, with that arm of his. He plays baseball. He might even beat you; he pitches at 85 miles per hour.”

Jack scoffs disbelievingly. “No one can ever beat me at a snowball fight,” he preens proudly, puffing up in pride. “I’m the best. I created snowball fights.”

“I think snowball fights existed even before you were human, Jack.”

“Ha, but I made them _mainstream_.”

Jamie rolls his eyes affectionately as he snorts softly to himself. “I should’ve never taught you that term. You’re almost like an anti-hipster.”

“Anti-hipster and all, you love me, Jamie,” Jack chuckles, and then stops, and thinks of Chris.

“Platonically,” Jamie adds after an awkward silence.

“Yeah, of course. What else.”

**ix.**

“I just don’t understand,” the Guardian complains. “He was blushing and spazzing and everything when I teased him before, but now he doesn’t even react to them! He’s _calm_. Jamie is not calm when it comes to my jibes. _Never has he been. Not until now._ ”

Cupid patted his back reassuringly. “There, there,” he sighs, “love’s hard.” The blond harpy inhales dramatically and smiles caringly in empathy.

Jack turns his head to stare at him questioningly. “Who said anything about love?”

Cupid just gapes at him. “You mean, you still haven’t figured it out? After everything? All of this?

“All of what?” Jack asks, confused, then narrows his eyes in suspicion. “...wait, please don’t tell me that you shot Jamie.”

“....Uh,” the Spirit of Love gulps, then lowly mutters, “...Oh, damn.”

“You did, didn’t you?” Jack bursts into panicked irritation.  “Cupid, you little bastard!”

Cupid throws his hands up in the air in utter exasperation. “Well, what else was I supposed to do? I’m the protector of young love and lust. The poor boy needed someone!”

Jack twitches in chagrin. “He has me.”

“He doesn’t know that! You never told him! You never realized, even when it was screaming at you and slapping you hard in the face! You still haven’t realized!”

“I’ve been hanging around the damn boy for almost a decade now!” Jack shouts. And then he pauses. “...Realize what?”

“Exactly my point,” Cupid grumbles. “Do I have to shoot you too?”

“Shoot me - what are you getting at, blondie? Are you saying I'm in...” He trails off hesitantly, not wanting to say it because that would be _acknowledging it, shaking hands with it and coming to terms with it for the first time._

Cupid starts to nod erratically. “Yes,” he affirms, “yes, that is exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you for the _past four years_.”

“Oh,” Jack mumbles, and that’s all he can muster to say.

**x.**

“So Sandy, do you think Jamie has a crush on me or not?”

...

“Seriously, Sanders. I need to see if I can woo him over. Don’t look at me like that.”

...

“Wait, is that a yes? Really? You actually think so?”

…

“Hey! I’m not stupid!”

**xi.**

“So,” Jack drawls casually, “how’s it going with the boyfriend?”

Jamie shrugs.

Jack perks up.

“What, did he break up with you or something?”

The sixteen-year-old human shoots him the look. “No, I broke up with him,” he admits nonchalantly, faking apathy.

“You did?” Jack asks, interested piped. “But why? You were enamored with him.”

Jamie shrugs yet again.

“So he wasn’t the boy who stole your heart?” Jack whispers quietly, slowly drawing in closer, expecting Jamie to back away.

But he doesn’t. He says nothing.

“I wonder who it was,” Jack mumbles, leaning in to press his lips on Jamie’s.

**xii.**

“You and Jamie are going steady now, no?” North’s heavy accent heartily declared while he clamps his enormous hands on Jack’s shoulders. “Congratulations, my boy!”

North's laughs boom loudly and the Yetis all turn to stare at Jack oddly.

“North,” he starts, embarrassed, “please stop.”

“Stop? Stop what? Teasing you? Never!” The Russian Guardian barks out strong laughter, stroking his beard in a stereotypical Santa-like fashion. Suddenly, facing turning serious, North says, “It is very risky to love a mortal, you know that. Humans die.”

“We were human once.”

North heaves a great sigh. “But we were chosen by the Man in Moon to be who we are. We are extraordinary in Manny’s eyes. Jamie is merely a young, ordinary, mortal boy.”

“When he was younger, he saved us all from Pitch. He was the last believer. He was my first believer. He helped to bring Sandy back. Isn’t that enough for _something_?”

The Russian man gives Jack a small, sad smile. “Humans change so easily. It’s dangerous to love one.”

Jack grimaces. “I know. That’s not going to stop me.”

“You are a very strong-willed boy, Jack,” North remarks fondly. “Very headstrong and stubborn. I cannot decide whether that is good or bad. Or maybe it is both, or neither, or something else entirely.”

“...you’re making no sense today, North.”

The Guardian chortles heartily. “Do I ever make sense? No, boy! Now skedaddle, I have presents to attend to!”

**xiii.**

“North’s been telling me that it’s a bad idea to fall in love with you.”

Jamie stops blowing at his scalding coffee and looks up at him. “Since when did you listen to him? Or any type of advice, for that matter?”

Jack gulps down a large gulp of iced cocoa and shrugs. “Yeah, but...this time, he actually makes sense.”

Jamie tenses.

Jack, noticing this, splutters and corrects, “No, God, not that it’s a bad idea to fall in love with you, he thinks it’s a bad idea to fall in love with a mortal in general. The former already happened, idiot.”

At this, Jamie frowns, but his cheeks go a cotton candy pink that rivals some of the pastel reds of Bunny’s eggs. “Don’t say things that aren’t true, Jack,” he grumbles, stirring his coffee with an unnecessary ferocity.

Jack furrows his eyebrows. “Hey,” he murmurs softly, tilting his head to meet Jamie’s eyes, “look at me. I’m saying it ‘cause it is true.”

Jamie grumbles indiscernibly and crosses his arms over his chest stubbornly.

“Huh? What did you say?”

“Shut up, Jack,” Jamie huffs in exasperation, grabbing Jack by his hoodie collar, reeling him in to kiss him.

**xiv.**

And so they fall in love over mint chocolate chip ice cream and iced cappucinos.

**Author's Note:**

> title is completely irrelevant to the story. it's a quote from "young blood" by the naked and famous.  
> sorry, this is my otp. so otp feels here we go.  
> oh, and please comment/tell me if there are any mistakes. my beta read this, but then i updated it and was too eager to post it, so there might be some.


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